


Blandishment

by Averia



Series: Trigger'verse [2]
Category: Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dom/sub Undertones, Humiliation, M/M, Season/Series 02, Smut, Under-negotiated Kink, Vulnerability, sex as payment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 14:22:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21199106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Averia/pseuds/Averia
Summary: "No complaints, Grayson? No quips?"To secure Kaldur's and Artemis' safety while they are undercover, Dick promises Slade control, control over his body that is. It leaves him far more vulnerable than he thought it would.(Additional scene ofPersuasion, but pretty much a PwP.)





	Blandishment

**Author's Note:**

> I finally did it! I present to you the first time Dick meets up with Slade to pay him for Kaldur's and Artemis' safety with his body.  
I hope it is worth the wait. :D
> 
> Technically _Blandishment_, is a fill-in between _[Chapter 1: Prologue](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8233243/chapters/18868444#workskin)_ and _[Chapter 2: Contract](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8233243/chapters/18883429#workskin)_ of Persuasion. Because this is pretty much a PwP though, it should be able to stand on its own.
> 
> Day 3: "Everything has a price." | **Young Justice**

Dick twitched up from the couch, hurling the empty glass before he caught proper sight of the shadow. A high sound chimed through the hotel suite when Deathstroke caught the fragile projectile. The glass glittered in the moonlight, orange of Slade's mask shining through. For a moment, all Dick could hear was his violently thrumming heart.

"You are late," he spoke past the pressure on his chest, past the danger, watching as Deathstroke, not Slade - not yet -, placed the glass down on the low table in front of the couch. Gotham's cool night air clung to Deathstroke. The distinctive smell of burning hot metal filled Dick's nose, and he wondered if he would be able to see blood splattered across the metal armor if the lights were on.

"Grayson," Slade greeted him with a tilt of his head, silver strands falling into his face when he took off the heavy mask, completely ignoring Dick's displeasure despite being known as Mr. Punctual. A queasy feeling settled in Dick's stomach, and he refrained from asking why Slade was more than an hour late to their rendezvous.

The one-eyed gaze traveled over his body as Dick stood from his half-crouched position in front of the couch.

"How are Kaldur and Artemis?"

"Save."

Dick wanted to know more, a simple word wasn't enough, but he knew how thin the ice he was standing on was. He had not paid for their safety yet, and, for a moment, he had no clue how to begin the charade he had decided to play, felt out of his depth. He hadn't expected Slade in his armor; even though he should have known Slade wouldn't let him pretend that this was anything but a business transaction.

"How do you want me?" His voice remained steady, and maybe that was all that mattered, but he had wanted to play a role, and he was already failing. Gone was his confidence from one week ago when he had stood opposite Slade in the same manner in the same presidential suite.

Slade quirked an eyebrow, hint of a smile visible even through the shadows. "Undressed."

"You don't say, Slade?" Dick replied drily, refraining from shifting when Slade walked closer, their height difference suddenly remarkably apparent. Dick's spine straightened further in a futile attempt to get some advantage back. "I was inquiring about more explicit information."

Seduction didn't come naturally to him, at least not as naturally as people assumed it should. They saw his muscular body, his open smile and told themselves he was charming because he chose to be. In truth, he had only awkwardly and fumblingly added seduction to his skillet because he knew how well it worked for Bruce and Selina and Dinah.

"Of course, you were," Slade responded and still didn't give him anything of substance. "But you know, getting the basics right is important."

Dick would have complained if he could have, but fingertips were already ghosting over the vulnerable skin of his exposed throat.

The quiet danger exuding from Slade came with the territory, was familiar and new in a way that made Dick want to take a step back and one forward all the same. Their gazes met, and Dick swallowed roughly when Slade thumbed the first button of his white now crumpled dress shirt open. If only he had left his tie and jacket on before lying down, but he had been so tired. With Bruce in space, Kaldur and Artemis on such a dangerous--

"Are you going to make me do this myself, boy?"

Dick didn't shiver, but it was a near thing, and his hands jumped up even before Slade pulled his hand back. Feeling the Kevlar threw him for a loop, reminded him that he was offering his body that this wasn't meant to be good for him.

Slade watched him work the buttons open, didn't pretend to be concentrated on anything but his slowly exposing skin.

Dick shrugged his shirt off the second the last button gave way beneath his fingertips, watched Slade's gaze travel over his upper body, and catch at the long scar bisecting his right pec that reached to the middle of his sternum. Slade's hand brushed over his stomach up to the beginning of the scar, rested there for a long moment just for Slade's hand to brush against his chin, forcing him to look back up into his single eye.

"I see you shaved."

"It's what we agreed upon," Dick returned, ignored his thrumming heart, knew Slade could feel it, hear it.

"Hmmm," Slade's fingers ran down over his abs, leaving a tickling-burning trail behind. "What else?"

For a second, Dick didn't even know how to talk, not with the fingers edging dangerously close to the edge of his pants while one hand lay heavy on his shoulder. His slacks were starting to feel tighter already.

"No bruises where anyone can see," Dick finally said, trying not to shift away when Slade circled the bullet wound on his left shoulder with his thumb, "No permanent damage."

"A _No_," Dick's breath hitched when Slade unclasped his belt, "A _No_ means _No_ and doesn't-doesn't end the contract."

The rasp of the zipper echoed deafeningly in his ears, and he bit his lip, eyelids fluttering, but not daring to shut when Slade pushed his hand down to cup him through his boxers. Dick grabbed Slade’s wrist just to steady himself, and his stomach plummeted when he looked back into Slade's eye, saw the guarded hunger there.

"Did you prepare?"

"I," Dick hesitated, remembered how strange it had been to be in his childhood bathroom, fearing Alfred might know, Alfred might hear, „I started, but I... I wasn't sure if you wanted me to."

The hand wandered to his ass, pulled him nearer and goose bumps rose over his skin. The armor felt cold in contrast to everything else.

"Good thinking, kid," Slade's fingertips dug into the flesh of his ass, grinding him forward. Dick gasped, forced to his tiptoes and cock pulsing in the confines of his trousers. "Next time you'll leave that part entirely to me,” Slade whispered, breath warm against his temple, “We wouldn't want you to get hurt."

Dick closed his eyes, tried to ignore the nervous flutter in his stomach. His nails curved against the armored shoulders. How long was Slade anyway? _How thick?_ And why had he not asked?

"Strip in front of the bed," Slade spoke, hand trailing down his spine, "Back to me."

Dick licked his lips, grip tightening around Slade's shoulders as he stole a glance at the king-sized bed. The mere thought of standing in front of Slade without any protection made his knees weak and his face flush for two entirely different reasons.

With a last glance up at Slade through his eyelashes, he slowly pushed away. There was supposed to be a swing of the hips, but his dress pants were riding dangerously low as it was, and his bravado had chosen to free fall out of the window just to crash-land on Gotham's streets anyway.

The second he stood with his back facing Slade a surge of adrenaline clogged his throat, but the feeling didn't hinder his erection, only increased it.

Power imbalance had always made his mouth water. (Zee and he had never been quite as non-kinky as everyone liked to assume, there were a lot of advantages when your girlfriend was a skilled sorceress.). Now was no different.

The scars covering his back felt more prominent than ever, seemed like living things slithering under his skin, craving for attention. Of course, the one’s Slade had given him stood out to him the most.

Slade remained deathly silent behind him.

His head tilted forward when he pulled his pants down, heart speeding up once more. He resisted the urge to look back at Slade for... something. Then his thumbs hooked underneath his boxer briefs, pulling them down like one would a band-aid.

He stepped out of them, skin crawling at the sheer vulnerability he was showing, an alarm chiming at the back of his mind, his shoulders tense.

"It's healing well," Slade brushed along the deep violet scar welting across his back, suddenly all too near. The first proper skin to skin contact made Dick shiver. "That was a stupid move, kid."

"Knew you'd realize it's me," Dick spoke quietly, couldn't have raised his voice if he tried. Getting between Slade and his target in nothing but street clothes had in fact been a stupid move… and had nearly killed him.

A hand settled between his shoulder blades, touch burning down his back when Slade stepped nearer, lips brushing against his neck. Fingers parted his ass cheeks, rubbed over his puckered rim. It twitched, still a little wet, a little open.

"Going straight for the main course, Slade?"

Hot breath fanned over his skin, lips stretching into a smile as Slade hummed.

"I wasn't aware you'd offer me a whole menu," Slade's fingertip pressed into him, resting there for a moment before pulling away. The hand settled back onto his hip, following the curve of his shaped muscles down the front of his smooth pelvis.

His eyes squeezed shut when the soft-rough fabric of Slade's under armor brushed against his back and a gasp left his mouth, body rocking forward when Slade grabbed his balls, one ungloved slick finger sliding into his stretched hole at once. His back arched, hands uselessly twitching at his sides, searching for something to hold onto but not daring to grasp for Slade.

Slade hummed, squeezing his balls until Dick buckled with a groan.

A second finger pushed into him way too soon, filling out the stretch Dick had worked up to far more than he had expected. The harsh stimulation was enough for his mouth to fall open and his head to fall back against Slade's shoulder. Puffs of breath escaped his lips. It already felt like too much.

What had he been thinking?

"Responsive as always," Slade rumbled against his ear, hand leaving his balls to caress over the twitching skin of his lower belly.

Dick bit his lip at the sudden feeling of dread. What irony that a hand on his belly made him feel more vulnerable than the longer, bigger fingers parting his ass. Heat rose to his cheeks, and he tilted his head away, eyes flying open when Slade used the motion to graze his teeth over the sensitive skin underneath his ear.

"What did you use?" Slade asked, the fingers shifting inside of him in a way that made his face burn in embarrassment, his cock already a twitching burning erection under the teasing stimulation.

"My fingers," he whispered, hands clenching at his sides. He hadn’t used a dildo since he had left college, wasn't sure if it had survived the move to Blüdhaven.

"How many?"

"I... um..." Dick wanted to tell him to stop asking, to just take what he wanted instead of being a tease, but he knew the burning humiliation coursing through him was what Slade had really agreed for. "I..."

Slade chuckled, the voice a deep sound vibrating in his ear. Sharp teeth pricked into his earlobe, nearly inducing a whimper. "To see Nightwing so unsure. Fascinating."

If possible, his skin burned even more.

A hand brushed back down between his legs, expecting Slade to tease his balls once more, Dick jerked forward in surprise at the sudden strong grip around his member; choked noise escaping him.

"And who did you think about?" Slade murmured, crooked fingers thrusting in and out of him in earnest now, pulling at him, and making him shake.

Dick stared down at the large hand around his pulsing cock, a whole-body shudder making him push back a tiny bit more against the fingers stretching him open. It was strange to feel them reach so deep, deeper than his own.

"W-what?"

"Who of your fellow hero's did you think about, kid? That speedster of yours? Harper? Batgirl? Wonder Woman?"

Dick shuddered.

"T-Tempest," he breathed out.

Slade idly twirled the pad of his thumb over the sticky growing head of his cock, and Dick locked the gasp behind his teeth, head falling further back and shoulders tensing.

"One of Aquaman's?"

"Y-Yeah," Dick replied, a little cry of pleasure escaping him when Slade squeezed, legs buckling at the warmth jerking through him.

"Was he gentle?"

Dick swallowed, the hair on his neck tingling when his ears rang with the hidden danger behind the innocent question. Another finger wiggled its way inside of him, the stretch a minuscule burn up his spine that simmered into pleasure the moment the finger was seated. Slade's knuckles pressed flush against his ass.

"Was he gentle, boy?" Slade questioned, voice lowering and hand curling around the base of his cock to give a warning squeeze.

"He was," Dick answered, hips twitching forward when Slade brushed up his length once more. "God, he was."

For a moment, Slade's fingers stayed buried deep inside of him, then they slipped out, lube unceremoniously being wiped off against his ass. A light smack to his cheeks nearly made him jump forward.

"Get down on your hands and knees."

The words were like a whip against his skin, cold and sharp.

Dick stepped forward with a stumble, tried to keep some dignity as he crawled to the middle of the king-sized bed without looking back, unable to face Slade at all. Fabric rustled and Dick swallowed, sphincter blinking around the nothingness. He wasn't used to that feeling of fullness anymore. He should have prepared better, should have searched out a one-night-stand, preferably multiple before offering himself to Slade.

His fingers curled into the blanket underneath him.

"Head lower. On your elbows, boy."

Dick followed the commands, muscles twitching with his nerves, and his mind in a battle between fight and flight.

The bed dipped behind him, electing a flutter in his stomach.

"Spread your legs a bit more," Slade urged his thighs apart, "Ass higher."

Dick swallowed. The position put a strain on his muscles and left him even more vulnerable and exposed. Fingers teased his rim, tiny brushes tingling his skin, and Dick hid his face in the mattress, craving to rock back to feel them slip back inside his body. The touch was too soft, too teasing. All he wanted was rough and hard. A fast end to whatever he had gotten himself into.

"Remember this, the way you feel right now," Slade spoke, lubed thumb rubbing against his hole, "the arch of your spine, the canting of your hips. That's how I want you to wait for me next time."

Dick didn’t want to know how he looked like this, didn’t want to think about how humiliating it would be to wait for Slade like this as if he was just something to be used at the mercenary’s convenience. The thumb slipped inside of him, stretched him out to one side, opening him up in a different way.

"No complaints, Grayson? No quips?" Slade asked, a second thumb breaching him, pulling him open. Dick could feel the stretch, knew Slade could rip him apart if he wanted. The thought made his throbbing cock pulse even more.

Cool air reached into him, a foreign feeling. His face was burning; eyes shut and breath wetting the pillow underneath him. A sudden trickle of cold lube touched his rim, slipping inside of him, and Dick clawed down, holding back a whimper.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

His cock felt hot against his abs, the throbbing urging him to touch himself.

The pad of a finger circled his hole as if to soothe the twitching muscle. Warmth rushed over his body when the head of Slade's slicked up condom-ed cock pressed against his opening.

Apparently, the bed was _not_ the only king-sized thing in the room.

"Ready to pay, Kid?"

Dick licked his lips, tried to wrap his head around how large Slade felt compared to how large he had to be. A hand brushed over the curve of his spine, big and warm. It felt good, all of it felt good, in a way that made him push back against the hardness, body shivering under the attention.

"It's like you don't even know me."

Slade let out a sharp laugh, hands grasping his hips once more and the thrill running up Dick's spine was nothing against the agonizing pleasure coursing through him in the next second. He arched, a gasp leaving his mouth as Slade pulled him back until his ass touched the strong pelvis. The blanket bunched up beneath his legs.

Dick felt like breaking, was sure he would if Slade moved.

"You feel like a virgin, Grayson. Blush like one too."

Hands smoothed over the globes of his ass, squeezing the flesh, and rolling it up in motions that were almost painful. Dick whimpered. His fantasies, his lonely nights, and even his past experiences were nothing against the man behind him.

"Innocence doesn't suit you," Slade spoke, rolling his hips in a tantalizing way that made Dick's cock ache and twitch, "Never has."

Dick laughed, face burning, and pressed into the pillow.

"You're awfully monologuing today, Slade," Dick spoke, trying and failing to ignore the tremors running through him, the need for him to move, "I'm missing some action."

Slade's fingers pressed into his hips, and Dick gasped when Slade pulled out all the way just to thrust back into him with a single-minded focus that made his legs tremble and his mind blank. The next thrust followed quicker and soon he was left rocking with the volatile speed Slade had chosen, cock drooling between his legs, neglected for all it was worth, while his ass was pounded, fingertips leaving bruises against his skin.

He would feel this for days to come, which was probably the point.

Sweat was beading against his skin, his thighs quaking, and a sharp gasp left his lips when Slade pulled him back by his hair, forcing him into a stronger arch as more and more thrusts crashed down into his body.

Dick groaned, needy, when the angle turned just right, biting down hard on his lips to keep from saying Slade's name. His ass clenched around the thick cock every time Slade filled him again as if his body wasn’t ready to let Slade go yet.

Slade shifted his grip, hand clasping around his jaw with bruising strength and fingers digging into his hips as Slade used him, more erratic pacing taking over his thrusts, breath harsh. It wasn't a bad feeling, just new, foreign, and a little scary. 

Dick's breath hitched when Slade pushed deep inside of him, held him close. His hips and cock twitched as he found his relief. Dick tried not to imagine how it would feel to let Slade come inside of him and failed more than he ever wanted to admit.

Slowly the grip around his jaw relaxed, the hand digging into his waist easing as Slade leaned against him, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips.

Dick barely held back a grunt when a thumb pressed into the heat of his body beside Slade's thick softening cock.

"You haven't bottomed in a while, have you, Grayson?" Slade asked, voice unusually mellow in his afterglow.

The thumb pressed against his inner wall, teasing him.

"No." Lying wasn't really an option. And never a good idea if Slade was involved.

"Well," Slade began, thumb cruelly digging into Dick's flesh as he slipped out of him, forcing all of Dick’s muscles to tighten. "Then it stands to reason, that you won't bottom for anyone but me in the next few months either."

Dick let out a humorless huff, could already feel the sore spots on his body.

"Screw you, Slade," he all but hissed, pulling up to his knees as much as he could. 

A stinging slap connected with his ass, loud in the silence and powerful enough to force him back down. 

"I bet you wish you could."

Dick barely heard him, ears ringing as his teeth dove down hard to keep his moan in when his still erect cock brushed against the wet blanket, pre-cum bubbling out and thighs shaking as he was nearly forced over the edge by the violence.


End file.
